Thirty and a Half Excuses

by Denise Grover Swank

  I handed him the menu. “I know, but eating something might make you feel less lightheaded.”

  He squinted at me. “How did you know I felt like that?”

  Telling him I felt the same way wouldn’t exactly be confidence inspiring. “I just do. Stay right here, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Bruce Wayne nodded, but he didn’t look happy about it. “There’s something I have to tell you.”

  “You can tell me when I come back.”

  “No. I saw something.”

  I rested my arms on the table and leaned closer, lowering my voice. “Saw something where? When?”

  “At the church last week. I didn’t think anything of it until this morning.”

  “What did you see?”

  The waitress filled his empty coffee cup and took his order.

  His hands shook as he tore the corner off a sugar packet and poured it into his cup.

  “Bruce Wayne. What did you see?”

  He scrubbed his face with his hands. “Nope. I don’t think I should tell you.” His hands lowered, and his eyes turned glassy. “They already think both of us are a part of this thing. If I tell you, they might use it against you.”

  “No. We’re in this together. You can trust me.”

  His looked down at the table, his eyes peeking out through scraggly hair. “You’re the one person I know I can trust, which is why I have to protect you.”

  I sat back in my seat, running my hand through my hair in frustration before turning back to him. “Just tell me this: Were you at the church when you saw whatever you saw?”

  He nodded.

  At least that was something. “Would you tell Mason?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “We can go to the courthouse together—”

  His eyes widened. “No! I ain’t goin’ in the courthouse!”

  I held up my hands. “Okay. How about if he comes here? You have to give me something more to go on, though.”

  “It’s about that kid that was at the church.”

  “Thomas?”

  “Yeah.” He patted his chest, then his jeans pockets. “I wish I had a cigarette.”

  “When I come back, I’ll get you some.”

  He didn’t look so sure about waiting, and I had serious qualms about leaving him alone. I pulled my cell phone out of my purse, planning to call Mason to see if he’d meet us. But when I tried to pull up his number, I discovered my phone was dead. It was my first cell phone, purchased just a few months ago, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get the hang of remembering to charge it.

  Bruce Wayne’s leg bounced up and down. “I can’t go back to jail, Rose. I just can’t.”

  I covered Bruce Wayne’s hand with my own. “Nobody’s going to jail. I’ll go get Mason. He’ll take care of this. I promise. Wait for me here.”

  As I left him in the diner, I hoped I’d find him there when I came back.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mason’s attractive young secretary didn’t look happy to see me. She glanced at me from the corner of her eyes, and then looked back at her computer screen. “He’s out.”

  “Do you know when he’ll be back?”

  Her eyebrows rose, but she kept her attention on her computer. “No.”

  “Is he in court?”

  Her mouth puckered in disapproval. “I’m not at liberty to discuss Mr. Deveraux’s schedule. Perhaps you should call and make an appointment like everyone else.”

  Why had I let my phone die? It was the only place I had his cell phone number stored, but I couldn’t wait for it to charge. “Can you just call him and tell him that Rose needs to talk to him. It’s important.”

  Folding her hands on her desk, she gave me a patronizing stare. “I’ll be happy to take your name and number and make an appointment for you.”

  “Can you just give me some idea how long it will be?”

  She ignored my question, returning to her work.

  I wasn’t sure how long Bruce Wayne would wait for me. Resting my hands on her desk, I leaned forward. “I promise he’ll want to know I’m here. Can’t you just call him and leave a message on his cell?”

  “Rose?” Mason stood in the doorway, surprise in his voice.

  I looked up, and his smile faded.

  “Is everything all right?”

  “No.”

  He took my arm and pulled me into his office, shutting the door behind us. “What happened?”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Start at the beginning.”

  I paced the room as he sat on the edge of his desk. He looked more official and intimidating that way, with his blue dress shirt and dark grey tie and his stern expression. I expected the impression to make me nervous, but it gave me more confidence that he could help.

  “I met Bruce Wayne at Jonah’s this morning, and we were in the front yard discussing the landscaping job when Detective Taylor and Officer Ernie showed up. They said another woman had died, and they needed to question Jonah.”

  “Another woman died? They didn’t call me.” Mason looked livid.

  “There’s more.” I took a deep breath. “Taylor and Jonah went inside and Ernie said something about Bruce Wayne and I helping a murderer.”

  “What?”

  “Bruce Wayne and I went around to the backyard. I could see Jonah and Detective Taylor in the window, so I put my ear to the glass to hear what they were saying.”

  He grimaced. “I’m not sure I want to know that part.”

  “Mason, Detective Taylor thinks Jonah killed those women. And he thinks Bruce Wayne and I are part of it.”

  He stood. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. On what grounds?”

  “He says we started working for Jonah right about when the women started dying. And Bruce Wayne has a criminal record. I had a vision while I was listening.”

  Mason’s gaze jerked up. “Did they hear you?”

  “No,” I shook my head. “But I saw Detective Taylor booking Bruce Wayne at the police station. Unfortunately, Bruce Wayne heard that part, and he’s freaking out.”

  Mason walked around his desk and picked up his phone. “I’m getting this resolved right here and now.” He angrily punched in some numbers and waited while I walked over to his window. His office had a good view of Main Street, and I could see Merilee’s down below.

  “You’ve got some explaining to do, Taylor. I hear there was another death and no one notified me to come to the scene.” He paused. “Excuse me?”

  I turned to look at him, and his face was red.

  “On what grounds?” After several seconds, he shook his head. “Do you ever give any consideration to how you investigate a case? Is there even a logical thought in your head?”

  Oh, dear. This wasn’t going well. I looked out the window, watching the entrance of Merilee’s in case Bruce Wayne left.

  Mason’s voice was tightly controlled. “My personal life is my business, Detective Taylor, and it has no bearing on this investigation.” He paused again. “You will regret this decision.” He slammed the phone down.

  “What happened?”

  “He decided not to summon me to the crime scene because I have a relationship with a suspect, and my personal feelings could cloud my judgment.” He banged his palm on the desk. “Goddammit.”

  I jumped at his outburst. “Can he do that?”

  “Sure, he can forget to notify me to come to a scene, but the DA and I are the ones who press charges. Taylor can bring whatever bullshit he wants to me. I’m not going to do a damn thing with it.”

  “Don’t burn any bridges on account of me, Mason.”

  His eyes hardened. “This bridge has been burning for quite some time.”

  “I left Bruce Wayne in Merilee’s. He refused to come into the courthouse. He says he can’t go back to jail.”

  Mason rubbed his temple. “What a mess.”

  “He says he saw something at the church last week that he didn�
�t realize was important until this morning, but he won’t tell me what it was. He’s worried that if the police find out I know, they’ll have more proof of my involvement.”

  “Shit.”

  “I asked him to give me something to bring to you, and he said it involves Thomas, the boy who lives on the corner.”

  Mason stood and started for the door. “Is he still at the restaurant?”

  “That’s where I left him. I ordered him breakfast and told him I’d be back after I talked to you.”

  He held the door open for me, and as he passed his secretary’s desk, he stopped and gave her the Mason van de Camp Deveraux, III death glare. “Cecelia, this is Rose Gardner. If I ever hear about you ignoring her request to talk to me again, you will no longer be employed by this office. Is that clear?”

  She looked down. “Yes, Mr. Deveraux.”

  “Good. I’m leaving the courthouse for a bit.” Mason looked up at me, resignation on his face. “Let’s go find Bruce Wayne.”

  When we got onto the world’s slowest elevator, I said, “You didn’t have to do that. She was only doing her job.”

  His eyes burned with anger. “If she was doing her job, she would have called me immediately and told me you were there. She knows you receive top priority.”

  I’d never been in Mason’s office before, although I’d been outside of it, and the few times I’d called him had always been on his cell phone. “Why?”

  “Because you have a knack for finding trouble, and I know you well enough to know you’d only call if it was important.”

  “Well…thank you.”

  “Do you think Decker’s information is credible?”

  It took me a second to realize what he was asking. “You mean he might have been stoned and made a mistake? I suppose it’s always a possibility with a drug addict, but if you’re asking me if I think he was stoned, then no. Bruce Wayne’s trying to stay clean, and I was with him enough last week to have noticed if he was high.”

  He nodded. “Good enough for me.”

  My stomach was a ball of nerves when we got to Merilee’s, and my heart sank when I saw Bruce Wayne’s table was empty. “He’s not here.”

  Mason looked around the small caf�. “Could he be in the restroom?”

  Cringing, I shook my head. “No. He was at this table and now it’s cleared off. He must have took off right after I left.”

  “Do you know where he would go if he’s scared?”

  I wanted to cry. “No. I don’t even know where he lives. I contacted him through David at the Piggly Wiggly. They just showed up at the job.”

  “Then let’s go to the Piggly Wiggly and see if David’s there. Maybe he knows where his friend is.”

  “He won’t be there. I’m pretty sure he only works nights.” I sank into the chair at Bruce Wayne’s table. “This is all my fault. He was scared to death. I never should have left him.”

  “No more talk like that. This is not your fault. We’ll find him.”

  I looked up at Mason. “They wouldn’t think he was a suspect if I hadn’t hired him and made him work there.”

  “You told me he was doing a good job. And he showed up this morning, right? Even after the stunt Pruitt pulled on you two yesterday.”

  “Yeah…”

  Mason sat in the chair in front of me. “Men get pride from working and doing a good job. Seems to me that Bruce Wayne’s had a run of bad luck. Sure he’s brought a lot of it on himself, but he couldn’t catch a break after getting arrested for a murder he didn’t commit…until you gave him one.”

  I rested my elbows on the table and leaned my forehead into my hands. “Maybe I gave him one, but look what good it did him. He’s about to get arrested for something he didn’t do. Again.”

  “We’ll find out where he’s hiding and get this mess cleaned up, okay?”

  I lowered my hands. “Why are you helping me? You don’t even know him.”

  The corners of Mason’s mouth lifted slightly. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  The waitress came over, perkier than when she’d waited on Bruce Wayne. “Hey, Mr. Deveraux. Do you want your usual?” She flashed him a toothy smile.

  He shook his head with a sigh and stood. “No. I’m about to leave. Thanks anyway, Brittany.”

  I got up, watching the two of them, surprised by how familiar they seemed. But then again, Mason was a single man who spent a lot of time at the courthouse. It stood to reason he ate here a lot.

  She tilted her head as she studied me. “Weren’t you with the guy who was sitting here just a little while ago?”

  “Yeah,” I pulled my wallet out of my purse. “I’m sorry he took off. Do I owe you any money for his bill?”

  “Nah, the guys he left with took care of it.”

  My head jerked up. “What guys?”

  “Two guys came in and sat with him. He looked nervous about seeing them, but he was jittery when you were with him, so I didn’t think much of it.”

  Mason turned to her. “Do you remember what they did?”

  She blushed and brushed the hair off her face self-consciously. “They didn’t really do anything, Mr. Deveraux. They just talked. When I brought out the nervous guy’s breakfast, all three of them were gone. The money was laying on the table.”

  Mason fixed his gaze on her. “Did you see where they went?”

  “Yeah, I think I saw them going out the back.”

  “Do you remember what the two guys looked like?”

  “Yeah, one was tall and bald with snake tattoos on his neck.”

  “Can you guess how old he was?”

  She scrunched her nose as she pondered it. “I’m guessing in his thirties. The other guy looked like a kid.”

  “A little kid?”

  “No, a teenager. Acne and all. He had long black, shaggy hair. He was kind of lanky. And some peach fuzz on his chin.”

  I put my hand on Mason’s arm. “That sounds like Thomas.”

  Brittany scowled as her gaze pinned on my hand.

  Mason didn’t notice; his focus was on me. “You’re sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Mason returned his attention to the waitress. “Did you see what kind of car they drove? What kind of clothes? Anything to help me identify them?”

  “I didn’t see what they drove. I just noticed them when they sat down at the guy’s table. The kid wore jeans and a rock band T-shirt. But the bald guy had on a uniform. Like a work uniform.”

  “Do you remember anything about it? Like what color it was or if it had any writing on it?”

  “It was a medium gray shirt. And it said something about a garage.”

  I felt lightheaded. “Weston’s Garage,” I half-whispered, worried I was right.

  The waitress’s face lit up. “Yeah! That’s it!”

  Mason turned around to face me. “How’d you know that?”

  I tried to blink away the fuzziness in my head. “Daniel Crocker.”

  Mason’s face hardened. “Daniel Crocker is in jail waiting for his trial.”

  “Thomas told me…” It all made sense now.

  “Thomas told you what?”

  “That Daniel Crocker is out to get me.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mason guided me back into my chair and sat across from me as Brittany went to wait on another customer. “Why do you think Daniel Crocker is out to get you?”

  “Well, first I had a vision about Thomas. It was after I found out Miss Dorothy didn’t leave her house to her niece. Thomas was in the front yard saying it was too bad Mildred hadn’t been killed too. I thought that was strange, since the police were still calling it natural causes at that point.”

  “Yeah, that’s odd.”

  “I told him it was a terrible thing to say, and he told me that no one liked her. I couldn’t really argue with that. He was getting into his car when I had the vision. He was with some scary-looking guy, who wasn’t happy. Thomas said he was having some problems doing a job, and
the guy didn’t like it.”

  “Sounds like he might have gotten himself in a bit of trouble.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But I’m still not sure what that has to do with Crocker.”

  “I saw Thomas at the church on Friday.”

  Mason’s eyebrows rose. “Jonah Pruitt’s church?”

  I nodded. “I think he’s working for Jonah. He told me a lot of people were upset about the part I played in shutting Daniel Crocker down, and they’d like to see me pay.” I leaned my forearms on the table. “Thomas is always working on his car. It stands to reason that he might have some connection to Weston’s Garage. Daniel Crocker’s shop.”

  Mason looked angry. “Why didn’t you tell me he threatened you?”

  I shrugged. “He’s a kid. I thought he was all talk. I mentioned it to Joe yesterday…before…” I closed my eyes, pushing the pain back down. Funny how worrying about going to jail had momentarily pushed my other troubles aside.

  “I’m glad you told Joe, but he’s not here, is he?” Mason’s voice was cold.

  My eyes widened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Joe is off doing who-knows-what who-knows-where while he’s undercover. He can’t do anything with this, Rose. I’m the one here in Henryetta. You should have told me too.”

  “I didn’t think it was important.”

  “If someone says Daniel Crocker is threatening you, it’s important.”

  “Joe said he was going to call the sheriff’s department to see if they knew anything. And he gave me the contact information for a friend of his with the state police.”

  Mason look unimpressed.

  “Do you think they took Bruce Wayne to Weston’s Garage?”

  “I don’t know.” Mason looked lost in thought, and then he pulled out his cell phone. “I’d love nothing more than to have the Henryetta police check this out, but we both know how well that would go over. I’d call the sheriff, but while Weston’s Garage is on the outskirts of town, it’s still within city limits. Henryetta police get jurisdiction. However, I plan to call them myself about the Crocker threat.”

  “Well, I can’t just sit here and do nothing. What if they did take him? What if they hurt him?” My voice broke.

  “All the more reason for you to stay as far away from them as possible.” He stood. “Come on.”